The evening goes on from Faramir's POV
- basically one chapter of spiciness and a bit of introspection and fluffy fluff
It's quite a bit shorter to keep it in line with the T-rating.

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything and I have the feeling Tolkien would be very happy about that.

Wit it this Christmas

For about the tenth time this evening Faramir was asking himself whether he was dreaming, or hallucinating, or whether he had been wrong about the drinks before and he was utterly drunk altogether. Because this, this couldn't be real. This was far too perfect, and these sort of perfect things didn't happen to him, Faramir Steward, born in London, living in Edinburgh, younger son of Denethor Steward, little brother to Boromir Steward - but any thoughts of his family disappeared as they reached her bedroom. Instead, they were replaced by excitement and maybe even a little bit of panic that was only kept at bay by the body currently pressed against his.

He could feel the smooth skin of her upper body under his fingers, contrasted by the sensation of fabric in the other hand. These trousers certainly had to go off, if he had any say. Éowyn was far more muscular than he had expected, less yielding and soft, and she clung to him with surprising and exhilarating intensity - as if she never wanted to let go of him. When he set her down in front of the bed, she stayed close to him, only a silhouette in front of him in the rather dark in her bedroom. Like a ghost almost, but a ghost that was radiating heat and making him burn up when her hands started to trace over his bare chest again. The darkness increased every sensation tenfold, but at the same time made cooperation a bit difficult: When he tried to catch her lips with his, he accidentally brushed her cheek. He tried again, but this time bumped her nose when Éowyn tilted her face towards him. Faramir could feel she was smiling when he finally fused their lips together soundly.

This time it was her who started it, her tongue demanded entry to his mouth and he granted it willingly. The kiss soon morphed into something wilder, their hungry lips kept separating and reconnecting in a hazy rhythm. For once, Faramir didn't think anymore, he let feelings take over. His partner was certainly taking his cue, her hands were mostly in his hair, but despite everything, they were gentle, as if she was scared to hurt him. It made a surge of affection crash though the haze of passion that made him startle and then slow down their kiss into something more deliberate and deep. The change and accompanying force seemed to surprise her and they suddenly stumbled back until they fell onto her bed into an unruly heap. He didn't miss the way she twisted her body even in falling to avoid being crushed, then there was a the slight huff next to him. Under his cheek, he could feel something soft and silky, though unfortunately his legs were still hanging off the bed in a very awkward fashion.

"I want to see you."
His bold declaration surprised even himself.

She didn't answer, but then shuffled to the left, and suddenly the whole room was bathed into a soft golden light that was coming from a reading lamp next to the head of the bed. It was a French double he would have guessed, certainly big enough for two people, with many fluffy-looking pillows on top. Under different circumstances, Faramir would have loved to have a look around the room and try to figure out as much as he could about the owner, but right now it was said owner who occupied most of his thoughts.

"Come up here!"

It was more a command than an invitation, but a gentle one, an offer. He followed her willingly, until they were face to face at the head of her bed. The woman looked like a beautiful marble statue, sleek, perfect skin and long lean muscles, the only thing that disturbed the comparison were her dark slacks that still painted an interesting contrast to the now slightly smudged make-up and rumpled hair. Faramir tenderly stroked a couple of strands out of her face. His mind was foggy, his heart still beat out of his chest, but he had the feeling at least 2% of his brain were functioning again.

"What now?"
It was an honest question, one without a right or wrong answer.

"What do you want?" she reflected the question back at him.

"Truthfully?"

"Hmm."

She trailed a hand down his arm, as if she couldn't quite help herself. The man let her explore him, but at the same kept his eyes on her face. Her eyes were wide, fixed on him, but she seemed a little insecure, as if he was a riddle, she hadn't quite figured out yet. That was fair, he supposed, after all, he basically knew nothing about the woman in whose bed he had ended up.

"Everything," he answered her.

I want to touch you. I want to kiss you. I want to feel everything of you. I want to make you feel amazing, because apparently your former partners didn't care to do so.
I want to wake up next to you. I want to go dancing with you. I want your playlist on my phone. I want to have fights and make up. I want to make you happy. I -

"Then lose the clothes."

He was ripped out of his head by the order and a kiss. It certainly warranted action, but he simply didn't want to let go of her right now, especially not when she reacted to sweetly as he shifted against her and pulled her leg up at his hip.

"Stop teasing me!" she almost whined.

He grinned against her skin.

"As my lady commands."

He was glad she didn't care about the state of her trousers, since they certainly would be rumpled after the way he had wrestled them down. Apparently, she seemed to have a problem with her own underwear, since she was blushing furiously not that he was looking down at her - he didn't quite get why though. True, there was no lace and more fabric than he would have guessed, but the high cut made her legs look absolutely amazing.

"Éowyn."
Her name rushed over his lips like a prayer.
"You're beautiful."

She only stared up at him, her smile both hopeful and wistful at the same time. Faramir wanted to kiss the questions off, wanted her to stop holding back - so he brought their faces closer together and did exactly that. She made him feel young, light, like he didn't have to worry about a thing. She was a drug, coursing through his body, from his scalp down to his toes. But she was also a warrior, protecting his boundaries. In this moment, she was everything and everywhere - everywhere on his body, but everything he had on his mind.